He's not sure why he's here. He couldn't get drunk if he tried these days. And yet he has a beer. Even if it tastes metallic. Like all his food does lately
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"Yes, I guess I am very lucky. No kittens. And no one will add 'kitten killer' to the list of things I am this week." He sips at the beer, and sure enough it tastes like tin foil.
Trever snorts. "You culda added that to most of me mates 'n co-workers a few weeks ago. M'cat she had wee ones that liked appearing in folks here's drinks. They just be gone a few weeks now."
"Nate. What I did was try to stop a mind controlled Marine from killing me. But things weren't what I thought they were, and I was framed for his murder. And for the deaths of hundreds." Goddamn Maxwell Lord.
"Ash be actually guilty. See, he caused a blight that took out the Western half of the United States for a ritual that he'd use to re-empower his godly powers and used his cult for virgin sacrifices, like."
"Ash...that sounds like something Max Lord might do too. He has it in for use and I honestly don't know why." He ignores the cat, and odds are the cat doesn't smell much at all.
"The man who framed us. The man who we have to stop. Not a god, though he thinks he is, the way he acts." Coming back from the dead can do that to a megalomaniac.
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"How am I lucky? I would love to know."
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He leans against the bar and sips an ale.
"Now then. Since we have discussed why ye be a lucky man, why you be so sad?"
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Trever nods seriously. That is pretty sucky.
"Ash be actually guilty. See, he caused a blight that took out the Western half of the United States for a ritual that he'd use to re-empower his godly powers and used his cult for virgin sacrifices, like."
He takes a drink.
"Least you be innocent."
A black cat appears on the bar and sniffs Nate.
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That would be his brother.
Well, she's a magic cat. She's sniffing him intently.
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